


why not pretend

by literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte



Category: Deltarune (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-17 00:34:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16505744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte/pseuds/literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte
Summary: How the gentle wind, beckons through the leaves...Every time she looks at one of her children, she can’t help remembering them when they were younger.





	why not pretend

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from "Into the Unknown" from Over the Garden Wall. I just wanted to be one of the pioneers of the Deltarune tag before it got over 50 fics, tbh.

A white ribbon folds and unfolds itself in the wind as it’s carried through the trees and towards the house at the end of the street, where Toriel is bent over in her garden. The smell of pie drifts through the open window like a warm melody, reminding her of the summer Kris took piano lessons. It was the only thing ze ever seemed to have a natural talent for, but she can’t recall the last time ze touched a piano in front of her.

She pulls up weeds in one hard motion, upsetting a mound of dirt and revealing reddish-brown worms. They writhe in blind circles and quickly burrow themselves in the darkness again. She makes sure not to step on them when she tamps down the earth and smooths it out until it almost looks untouched - almost. She wonders how much time she has left before the pie is done, and wiping her forehead with the back of her hand, she straightens and happens to glance up.

At the far edge of the driveway, Kris is watching her. She’s not entirely sure ze is, under that curtain of greasy hair, but ze is facing her direction. She smiles and waves. She can't see hir expression. Hir sweater, a size too large for hir, is pulled down over hir thumbs so the rest of hir fingers peek out like loose threads. When ze was an infant, ze would clutch the fur of her paw in hir tiny fleshy fist with a comical scowl, lips smacking and quivering. If she tried to pull away, that little toothless mouth would open and release a howl that wouldn’t cease for hours, even if she let hir chew on her fur.

Every time she looks at one of her children, she can’t help remembering them when they were younger. The thousand details of their changing bodies are etched out firmly in her mind, like the pink wrinkles of Asriel’s curled toes. He used to walk on his heels when he pranced through the house, tapping the arch of every doorway before he entered in some private ritual she could not understand but made him happy anyway. And that was all that mattered.

Kris could never prance because ze was always tripping and falling, in hir attempts at mimicking Asriel. Scabbed elbows and bruised knees. Sprained ankles and broken arms. Before the divorce, ze would come stumbling down the hallway to her and Asgore’s bedroom and beg to sleep between them. She would hold hir as, eyes rimmed with red and cheeks damp with tears, ze cried about dark worlds.

Ze had these dreams where ze would turn a corner in the house only to find hirself falling, falling, like a rock into a lake on a moonless night. Sinking into cold nothingness. The dreams were so detailed that they’d make her shiver, too. She hasn’t seen Kris cry in so long.

Her smile falters, and her hand lowers. As far as she can tell, ze hasn't reacted at all. A cruel part of her is glad that she can’t see hir glassy eyes right now, glad not to feel that pit open up in her stomach. She’s lost hir, somehow. How do you help someone so far away?

But ze’s right there... right there. She worries about hir, so much. She worries about hir, and she loves hir, so, so much.

The timer goes off in the kitchen. She blinks. She looks away, at the flowers. She looks back, and Kris is gone. The sun comes in golden rays through the autumn trees, dappling the empty patch of earth where her child once stood.

She never knew light could be so threatening.


End file.
